


Can I Hold You?

by raidelle



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Canon Compliant, Eventual Romance, Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, Romance, Slow Build, World of Ruin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-09
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2019-05-20 03:15:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14886590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raidelle/pseuds/raidelle
Summary: It all started when Prompto asked if he could help Ignis cook at camp.





	Can I Hold You?

**Author's Note:**

> This idea came to me and did not want to let go until it got written down. So here it is my first ever Promnis fic!
> 
> Please note that I don't have a beta reader, so kindly forgive any mistakes you see. ^^

It all started when Prompto asked if he could help Ignis cook at camp.

They had been driving all day (or at least, Ignis was driving), trying to make it to Galdin Quay before nightfall. But they had needed more funds to secure transport to Altissia, so they accepted a couple of hunts from the tipster at Longwythe; those had taken a good part of their morning. It was Prompto who suggested they take a break when the sun began to paint the sky a burnt orange. Noctis and Gladio had agreed, and so they found themselves camping at Vennaugh, which was an hour or so away from Galdin Quay if Gladio’s estimates were to be trusted.

“What are you cooking, Ignis?” Prompto had said. He had leaned curiously over Ignis’s shoulder but had still managed to keep a respectable distance.

“I’m roasting the dualhorn steaks we managed to procure at the Three Valleys,” he had answered.

“Ooh, can I help? I can uh, maybe chop the herbs? Those are herbs, right, not spices?”

Ignis had found it endearing, the innocent excitement that lit up Prompto’s violet eyes. “Yes those are indeed herbs. Rosemary and thyme to be exact.”

He showed Prompto how to hold the knife just so, and the younger man had taken to it like a fish to water. Ignis laughed when Prompto presented the dish of chopped herbs with a little flourish, and he had made sure to set aside two steaks that he’d spiced a little hotter than the rest.

From then on, the requests became more frequent. Most were rather simple and sweet, and Ignis chalked them up to Prompto’s natural temperament: polite and charming and enthusiastic.

“Hey, Ignis, can I come with you to the marketplace? I wanna know why you say shopping for supplies is therapeutic.”

“So, Ignis. Um. Can I call you Iggy? I mean, the big guy calls you that, but, well, I don’t know if you’d be okay with me calling you that, too.”

“Iggy? Can I take your picture? The lighting’s perfect and I just --”

That one was accompanied with a shy smile half-hidden behind a well-used camera.

*****

After Altissia, Prompto had become much more attentive; at times Ignis would have even dared say Prompto was doting on him. Ignis had initially thought it was due to his handicap, which everyone had to get used to in their own different ways. But it also seemed that Prompto was overcome with some emotion that Ignis could not place. It was years later that he realized it was fidelity.

“I’m gonna go see what they have for lunch. Can I get you anything, Iggy?” 

“Can I carry that for you? Here, take this one instead so you can hold your stick more comfortably.”

It was at Fodina Caestino that Ignis began to think there was something more to that cast in Prompto’s voice.

“Hey, slow down you guys. And stop bickering! Hey, Iggy, can I help you up or do you --”

“I can manage, Prompto, but thank you.”

“Okay. Can I hold your hand at least? The ground’s a little slippery from all that rain.”

Ignis smiled and silently held out his hand. He welcomed the warmth and firmness of Prompto’s grasp. That hand, already developing calluses from guns and machinery, steadied both Ignis’s unstable footing and thundering heart.

And then Prompto was thrown off that train due to Ardyn’s machinations.

Noctis was wracked with heart-wrenching guilt, Gladio with understated worry, and Ignis….

Ignis had to keep things together. There was a voice screaming in the back of his mind, raring to be let out, but Ignis tamped it down. Uncontrolled rage and fear would do them no good. He had to focus. One problem at a time.

And he had faith in Prompto.

*****

The decade of darkness that swept over Eos made Prompto’s brightness all the more radiant. He was, Ignis was unashamed to admit, the reason why Ignis was able to hope.

“Can I train with you, Iggy? I think you should get used to hunting with a partner. I mean, you can’t go out there alone all the time. You’re um… you’re making me worry.”

“Hey Iggy? Can you teach me how to cook that peppery daggerquill rice? I took on a couple of extra hunts with Iris and got Monica to reserve the ingredients for me in return.”

“Iggy! You’ll never guess what we found down at the Coernix Station in Cauthess. Hair gel! Can I try something with your hair?”

It took eight years for the range of emotions shared between them to coalesce into something definable, after a rather harrowing mission that left Prompto with a dislocated shoulder and a sprained wrist, and Ignis with a couple of fractured ribs.

They reported back to Dave, who generously gave them a vial of megalixir, and then tended to their injuries almost by rote. It was nothing they haven’t experienced before -- they had suffered worse, in fact -- but somehow, this time was different. Perhaps it was because of Prompto’s words to Ignis right before they drove off to the mission site: “Can you hold my hand, Iggy? At least until we get there.”

They retreated to their shared caravan at Meldacio in silence.

Hours later and neither of them have found sleep. Ignis could hear Prompto twisting and turning on the top bunk, and he himself could not stay still long enough to apply his breathing exercises.

Finally, the rustle of sheets stopped. A slither and a thump later, and Ignis detected a shadowed form crouched before his bed. The scent of citrus and sunshine invaded his senses and a quiet entreaty sounded from lips that hovered tantalizingly close to his own. “Iggy? Can I… can I hold you? Please?”

How could he refuse?

They woke up in a tangle of limbs and mingled breaths, feeling at peace despite the ever-encroaching dark.

*****

When Noctis had bid them his final farewell at the stairs of the Citadel, there was no time for words. There were hordes of daemons to defeat, and they could not let the sacrifice of the Chosen King -- their friend and their brother -- be for naught.

And so they pushed on. There was a sense of finality to every hack and slash and pull of the trigger, and Ignis could barely spare a thought for when the fighting would end. All he had was the here and now, and an overwhelming desire to live.

For the dawn. For Prompto.

When the sun finally rose again and warmed Ignis’s face, he felt Prompto reach for his hand. He thought he heard Gladiolus huff a laugh and say “Fucking finally,” when he pulled Prompto closer and said, “Can I kiss you?”

Prompto laughed and let out a tearful “Yes.”

And so he did.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a kudos or a comment and let me know what you think! I'm kind nervous about this one, tbh.
> 
> Say hi to me on Tumblr. I'm also raidelle there. :)


End file.
